


Renegade

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pacific Rim!AU, chanbaek are bros, side KrisHo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 06:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9309542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It is 2024. The kaiju are winning, and the fate of earth lies in the hands of washed up, former pilots and untested cadets.A pacific rim!au where Joonmyeon is the Marshal, Yifan has no idea why he's there, and where (almost) everyone is in a relationship with their Drift-compatible partners. Rounding off the group is Sehun and Zitao, the Science division of the PPDC that are as good as married.





	

 

 

> **_South Korea Shatterdome Decommissioned_ **

_The United Nations Pan-Pacific Breach Working Group has announced yesterday that all existing, active Shatterdomes will be decommissioned over the next eight months, after which funding for the Jaeger program will also stop._ This _comes after growing dissent over the usefulness of the Jaeger program and an increasing support for the Anti-Kaiju Coastal Wall project, which began construction a year ago. Coastal cities have also begun a mass relocation program as part of the Anti-Kaiju Coastal Wall project, where citizens and supplies will be moved further inland to established safe zones over the next 18 months._

_“While the Jaeger program have provided a valuable asset to humanity over the past three years, the fact remains that we are losing more of them then we can build. The kaiju are getting smarter, and we have to adopt a different strategy if we hope for a chance of winning this war,” the statement from the Working Group had said._

_An average Jaeger costs about USD$60 million to build, and that does not include the cost of maintenance, nor the cost needed to run a facility the likes of the Shatterdome. Sources from the United Nations (UN) have also confirmed that the Jaeger program was straining the economies of many of the world’s countries, and with the number of Jaegers in Oblivion Bay increasing at an exponential rate with each kaiju attack, it no longer seemed economically feasible to continue with the Jaeger program._

_While a majority welcome the move, some remain sceptical about the effectiveness of a wall in keeping out kaiju. Since 2020, the kaiju have become bigger, and were mostly categories three and four according to the Serizawa Scale. The Pan-Pacific Breach Working Group however, has yet to address these concerns._

_The statement from the Working Group then went on to state that: “We will allow all existing Rangers and the remaining Jaegers to be moved to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, which will become the new—and sole—base of operations for the Jaeger program before it is decommissioned. We thank Marshal Kim and his rangers for their devotion and sacrifice to humanity.”_

_The Marshal was unavailable for comment at press time, but an insider have informed us that preparations have begun for the move from the Seoul Shatterdome to Hong Kong. Currently, there is only one Jaeger left in the Seoul Shatterdome, which had been built to hold six. Lucky One will be moved to the Hong Kong Shatterdome the following Monday—the remains of Exodus have been transported to Oblivion Bay following the kaiju attack on Sydney last month. The Seoul Shatterdome will then be decommissioned on October 29. It has been confirmed that it will be deeded to the South Korean government kaiju-response authorities. Additional reporting as well as the full statement from the Pan-Pacific Breach Working Group can be found on page 8._

*

 

Shanghai was as cold and foggy as Yifan remembered it.

He hailed a cab at the airfield the Sikorsky had dropped him off at. It was weird to be speaking in Mandarin again. Years of being stationed in the Seoul Shatterdome had left his own mother tongue feeling foreign against his lips. It was more than a little disorienting.

The drive was short. Soon, he found himself standing in front of a modest condominium located near the Bund, the famous promenade that lined the Nanjing River. Years ago such a property would have been worth a pretty penny. Now, however, with the kaiju war, people were keener on properties located as inland as possible.

He raised his eyebrows when the security guard let him through after knowing his name, but he wasn’t surprised. Not even the slightest.

“I should have known,” he announced as he walked into the one apartment on the floor with its doors opened. “You knew I was coming.”

The apartment was bare. A man was sitting on the floor in the centre of the living room, a packed bag by his side. Upon being addressed by Yifan, he merely shrugged, looking cool and collected. “I still have some friends from my old job, I guess,” he said as he got to his feet.

Yifan gave him a small smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Luhan.”

The man called Luhan laughed and strode forward. His arms were opened, and Yifan allowed himself to be swapped into his warm embrace. They enjoyed a moment of silence before Yifan broke it. “I assume that since you knew I was coming, you know why I’m here.”

Luhan pulled away. “You’re damn right I do,” he said. “You and Joonmyeon have got something planned, don’t you? Something that doesn’t involve us cowering behind walls to die a slow death, right?”

Yifan’s lips quirked at the bluntness of his words, because at least _that_ hadn’t changed. “That’s right,” he affirmed.

“And you need me.”

Yifan nodded. There was no time for mincing words, no time for formalities and standard procedures and general beating around the bush. There was a world to save, after all. “We do.” He said. “Many of our pilots are dead.” He didn’t say that to be malicious. He needed Luhan to know what he was getting back into. The man had initially walked away for a reason, and Yifan needed him to know that there was no going back this time if he chose to return to their cause.

Luhan barely flinched. Yifan had to give it to him—he never turned back from path that he was committed to. Just like how no one could stop him when he left active service, Yifan knew nothing would change Luhan’s mind about coming back. And maybe with people like Luhan fighting this war with them, humanity will have a chance.

“I’m in.”

Yifan couldn’t help it. “Oh, thank God,” he said, relieved. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Luhan raised an eyebrow at him. “Help me with my bags,” he commanded. “And tell me all about your grand plan. Leave nothing out.”

Yifan rolled his eyes, but it was a small sacrifice to make for having his friend back into the fold. So he acquiesced. “You might be interested to know that we’re bringing someone else back, too,” he commented.

Luhan looked surprised. “Really? There’s someone else left?”

“Yeah, there is. You remember Kim Jongin, don’t you?”

 

*

 

Unlike Yifan, Joonmyeon knew it wasn’t going to be easy recalling this particular pilot back.

The Seoul anti-kaiju coastal wall was taking shape, he noted vaguely when the Sikorsky that had taken him all the way from Hong Kong landed. It caused a commotion, especially when the workers caught sight of the emblem of the Pan-Pacific Defence Corps on the helicopter. He ignored the noise and the crowd parted easily for him enough, so he ignored the gawking workers too.

It was still afternoon, so Joonmyeon knew it was the middle of the workday for most of them. Yet his sources told him that Kim Jongin would usually be having his meal in the mess hall at this time of the day. He found the place easily enough. It was less of a hall and more of a huge tent covering some chairs and tables. There were a television in the tent he walked into, and Joonmyeon realised that the news was covering, once again, the Sydney attacks.

A group of people were gathered around the TV, but they turned around when they heard him come in. One of them, Joonmyeon saw, with a slight jolt, was Jongin. It had been four years, but the man mostly still looked the same.

More importantly, Jongin didn’t even seem surprised to see him. His eyes were assessing as they gazed at the Marshal, but otherwise they showed no emotion. “Marshal. Looking sharp.”

Joonmyeon nodded. “It’s been a long time, Jongin.” He wondered how long the ex-Ranger had been here. Four years seemed an awful long time with nothing but the wall to stare at.

Jongin shrugged. “Four years, five months,” he said.

Joonmyeon gestured to the outside of the tent. “Can I have a word?”

Jongin paused, then nodded and followed him out. “I know a place,” he said.

Joonmyeon let himself be led to a quiet place they could talk. “What do you want?” Jongin asked, voice cool.

A pause. Joonmyeon wondered what he ought to say, which things he should say first. There were so many things he wanted to tell him. Jongin was a textbook case of PTSD and survivors’ guilt, and while he had been a ranger under his command, he and Joonmyeon had been friends too. The Marshal regretted not helping him more, not bothering to stay in contact after Jongin had left active service. Jongin had been so young then—one of the youngest rangers they ever had. The pain of losing your drifting partner was agonising to bear on your own. Joonmyeon would know.

“There’s an old Mark III,” he said at last. “We pulled her out of Oblivion Bay three months back. She’s old, but we managed to get her back on her feet.” Another pause. “She needs a pilot.”

Jongin jerked, and Joonmyeon made an aborted motion to put his arm around the younger man’s shoulders. Perhaps it was still too soon.

“You know I can’t do it,” he said tightly. “I can’t let anyone else in my head again. Not after…not after Jongwoon.”

Joonmyeon knew what Jongin must be thinking about. The sheer mental weight from piloting a Jaeger alone, combined with the gaping ache in your mind left behind by the death of your co-pilot. Jongin had not just watched Jongwoon die—he had _felt_ Jongwoon die, the last moments of Jongwoon forever seared into his mind because of their interlinked minds during the 2020 Anchorage drop against the kaiju, Knifehead.

“It’s different, now.” He said. He wanted to reassure Jongin somewhat, ease his pain. “We have a plan.”

Jongin shook his head. “No. I want no part of this, Joonmyeon.” He turned to leave.

There was something about his dismissive tone that made Joonmyeon angry. Yes, Jongin’s brother had died—but he wasn’t the only who knew loss. Joonmyeon himself had lost people—his rangers, his family. But he was still fighting, because the battle had to be fought. So when he spoke again, he doesn’t bother holding back. “The world is ending, Jongin.” He said. His tone was calm, but steely. “So where would you rather die? Here? Or in a Jaeger?”

Kim Jongin stopped. He turned back to look at the Marshal, and for the first time in their entire conversation, Joonmyeon saw something _alive_ in his eyes.

Joonmyun gestured around him. “The wall will be built with or without you, Jongin. But my other pilots are—they are dead. Don’t leave _her_ without a pilot, Jongin. Please.”

Jongin simply continued to stare at him. Then he turned and walked away.

Joonmyeon exhaled and let him go. He turned and starting walking in the opposite direction, towards the Sikorsky. He got into the back without a word to the pilot. The pilot glanced back at him. “Sir?” he prompted. Shall we leave?”

The Marshal shook his head. “Five more minutes.”

If the pilot thought that was odd, he didn’t say anything. He simply complied.

Not three minutes later, Joonmyeon heard the sound of pounding footsteps. He slid the door opened, and tilted his head to the side when he saw Jongin making his way towards the helicopter, jogging like he couldn’t get away from the wall fast enough.

“Change of heart?” Joonmyeon asked, though he couldn’t stop the small grin from appearing on his face.

“Lost my job, actually,” Jongin replied as he climbed onto the Sikorsky. “How come you waited?”

The Marshal’s smiled widened, and his eyes were soft as he looked at his old friend. “It’s been four years, five months,” he said quietly. “I figured another five minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

 

*

 

Jongin was a Ranger again, and surprisingly it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

It had been weird, of course, seeing Marshal Kim at the wall. Seeing him _anywhere_ that wasn’t the Shatterdome was weird. And when Joonmyeon had offered to make him a Ranger again, Jongin’s first instinct had been to refuse. Even thinking about piloting a Jaeger without his brother hurt.

Jongwoon had been the first Ranger to die in combat. Before their fight with Knifehead in Anchorage, the other kaiju had been easy to kill. Rangers achieved almost rock-star fame as their list of kaiju kills grew. Somewhere in the three years he had been a Ranger, Jongin had gotten cocky. His older brother, however, had never let it get to his head. Didn't matter though, in the end. Not after Knifehead.

After the drop, Jongin barely remembered anything. He was retrieved from the shallows of Anchorage and treated for his injuries. His Jaeger, Alpha Rogue, was shifted to Oblivion Bay. His brother’s body was never found. Knifehead had ripped open their Conn-Pod and tore his brother out while they had been in the water, so Jongwoon’s body had most likely been lost at sea.

There was a lot of talk and research carried out by the K-Science division after Knifehead. A kaiju’s lethality lay in its vast size and lack of self-preservation. It wasn’t supposed to be smart, or adaptable. It wasn’t supposed to know that there were two fragile humans within those mechanical bodies of the Jaegers, let alone where they were supposed to be located. By targeting the pilots, the scientists had argued, this showed that the kaiju were _learning_.

Nobody wanted to believe that. But then the Jaegers started losing. Ranger mortality started increasing. Humanity found itself right back where they had been when the first kaiju attacked.

Jongin lost track of what happened after that, because he resigned about a month after his brother died. He had tried—he went for counselling, saw a therapist, took some time off training—but he couldn’t stand being in the Shatterdome, so trapped and lost and alone. He had to leave. He packed a bag and left a letter of resignation on Joonmyeon’s desk. And then he was gone.

He went back to Seoul. He had no family left, so he had done some odd jobs, slept on his friends’ couches. When they needed people for the wall, he had signed up. He wasn’t trying to be ironic or make a statement or do anything contrary, if that was what Joonmyun thought. He had simply been trying to survive.

Then there had been nothing but the wall for nearly a year. And in less than twenty four hours, Jongin found his entire life flipped upside down, on his way to Hong Kong to fight a fight he swore he would never return to.

At least it hadn’t been a long journey from Korea. The Sikorsky had stopped in Shanghai to refuel and pick up Luhan and Yifan, much to Jongin’s surprise. He and Luhan had been stationed at the Anchorage Shatterdome together. Luhan’s co-pilot had been Minseok. That much, Jongin had remembered. The three of them and Jongwoon used to hang out. Jongin had even kept in touch with Luhan after he had resigned, but they gradually fell out of contact. He hadn’t even known that Luhan had left the Jaeger program, too. The rest of the trip from Shanghai to Hong Kong was thus used to catch up on the four, long years they had been apart.

Jongin learned that in the one year since Luhan had left active service, he had been trying to get his life back together—spending time with his family, working part-time, and seeing a therapist. The effort sounded impressive, and Jongin wondered if things would have turned out differently if he had done the same after Jongwoon had died. Tried to get his life back together the way Luhan had. He didn’t mention that, though. They steered clear of painful topics, particularly their past co-pilots. Jongin wasn’t stupid—he knew that Luhan’s departure from the Jaeger program would not have sat well with Minseok, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Luhan was coming back into the fold again, when even the love of his life couldn’t make him stay. 

Yifan and Joonmyeon left them alone for the most part—the two spoke to each other quietly, a contrast to Jongin’s and Luhan’s exuberant and almost painfully loud reunion. Seeing one another had been good for the both of them. It was almost effortless talking to Luhan, and Jongin appreciated it. It was a long time since he didn’t have to work so _hard_ for something.

Dusk was falling by the time the Sikorsky started its descent. It was raining hard, and the bright lights of Kowloon were dimmed by the sheeting rain. Jongin barely got a glimpse of the Boneslums—the remains of the first kaiju that had attacked Hong Kong, a once uninhabitable area that locals had all but reclaimed—before the helicopter landed with a jolt, and suddenly all he could see was the huge, military-like complex that was the Shatterdome.

Jongin would never admit it to anyone, but stepping out of the Sikorsky onto the rain-soaked helipad of the Hong Kong Shatterdome felt a little like coming home. Even after four years, the sights and sounds were familiar to him in a way working on the anti-kaiju coastal wall never could be. For a brief moment, he can’t help wonder why he had ever left. _Home_. It’s been a long time since he’s felt the comforts of a home.

He followed Joonmyeon and Yifan towards the complex, Luhan sticking close by his side. As they walked, he caught a glimpse of a cargo helicopter, its bay doors wide open as the pilots carefully unloaded a jar containing a piece of kaiju brain. Jongin wasn’t even fazed—he recognised it from old training manuals back in the Ranger academy. Supervising the group were two men, slightly older than he and both wearing lab coats. The Kaiju Science Division, or K-science for short, Jongin’s brain supplied helpfully, and Jesus, he sure did remember a lot about something he tried so hard to forget.

The group came to an abrupt stop and Jongin nearly walked into Joonmyeon, only stopping just in time when Luhan threw an arm across his chest. He blinked and focused on the diminutive young man that’s standing a couple of feet away, looking completely ordinary except for the bright red hair. Clearly, he had been waiting for them.

“Kyungsoo,” Joonmyeon greeted. The young man—Kyungsoo—bowed at the Marshal and Yifan even as he handed them an umbrella to share. He turned and bowed at Luhan and Jongin too, though not as deeply. Still, Jongin was a little caught off guard. He hadn’t been expecting such a welcome.

“Jongin, Luhan, this is Do Kyungsoo,” Joonmyeon said, gesturing to each of them in turn, probably for Kyungsoo’s benefit. “He’s one of our brightest, and he should be, since he was the one who oversaw the Mark III Restoration Project.”

“It’s nice to meet the both of you,” Kyungsoo said to Luhan and Jongin in Korean, his voice honey-smooth and polite. He somehow managed to keep eye contact with the two of them at the same time. Jongin is about to reply, but his brain short circuited a little when he caught sight of those huge brown eyes. So sue him, but he had never seen eyes that big.

“Nice to meet you too,” Luhan said smoothly, covering Jongin’s faux pas without a hitch, though he delivered a sharp jab into Jongin’s side in reprimand. Jongin was startled, but he doesn’t retaliate.

Kyungsoo smiled slightly, before he turned to Joonmyeon and said in lilting Cantonese, “I imagined _him_ differently.” He tilted his head slightly in Jongin’s direction.

Jongin realised belatedly that Kyungsoo’s words wasn’t something he was supposed to hear. He figured that Kyungsoo had been counting on him not understanding Cantonese—but Jongin had picked up enough over the years to at least _understand_ it, if not to hold a rudimentary conversation in it. So before Joonmyeon can reply, he responded.

“Different how?” he said, somewhat haltingly, a small grin playing on his lips. “Better, or worse?”

Almost immediately Kyungsoo turned as red as his hair. “My apologies, Jongin-ssi,” he said, in Korean this time, an embarrassed look on his face as he bowed a few more times. “I’ve just heard a lot about you.”

Jongin felt a little bad for playing his language trick now, and he can practically see Luhan rolling his eyes next to him. Joonmyeon and Yifan however, seem slightly amused. He was about to say something, let Kyungsoo off the hook, but the conversation was cut short when they were chivvied out of the way to make room for some holding tanks containing kaiju organs.

“Let’s get into the lift,” Joonmyeon said and the group picked up the pace as they walked towards the command centre. They slipped into the cargo lift, along with some of the tanks and the K-Science staff.

It was quiet for about two seconds before one of the scientist-looking types stiffened and looked at Luhan. “Luhan?” he asked, shocked.

Luhan’s head jerked. Jongin’s saw him focusing his gaze on the scientist, before a broad grin appeared on his face. “Sehun!”

“I forgot you two already knew each other,” Joonmyeon said as Sehun dashed forward to wrap Luhan in a hug. He glanced at Jongin, who looked understandably confused. “This is Dr. Oh,” he said, nodding at the scientist who was now hugging Luhan. Dr. Oh, or Sehun was tall, taller than Jongin and skinny with a shocking mop of blonde hair. He looked more like a model for lab coats than an actual scientist, and Jongin meant it as a compliment, because Dr. Oh was ridiculously good looking.

Joonmyeon then gestured to the other scientist in the cargo lift, whose eyebrows are raised as he stared, somewhat disapprovingly, at Sehun and Luhan. “And this is Dr Huang.” Dr Huang was slightly shorter than Dr. Oh and somewhat stockier and a whole lot more scary looking. The sleeves of his lab coat are rolled up and Jongin could see that he’s covered in tattoos of kaiju. A kaiju groupie who’s also a kaiju scientist? Jongin couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

“Taozi,” Luhan grinned, disentangling himself from Dr. Oh to hug Dr. Huang next. Dr. Huang rolled his eyes but acquiesced. “It’s been awhile.”

It made sense that Luhan would know them—he had only been away for a year, and Jongin had been gone for four. He couldn’t help but feel a little lonely though, at the thought of having to reintegrate himself into a group of new people, even if his surroundings felt familiar. He sneaked a glance at Kyungsoo, wondering what he was making of the whole situation, only to realise that Kyungsoo’s already watching him. He held Jongin’s gaze for about two seconds before dropping it, as though embarrassed that he had been caught staring.

The cargo lift door opened and Joonmyeon indicated that they should get out. Luhan clapped both Sehun and Zitao on their shoulders and promised that they will catch up soon before he followed Jongin out of the lift.

“So they’re part of your K-Science Division?” Jongin couldn’t help but ask a little sarcastically. He’s never seen two people who looks less like scientists that those two.

Joonmyun gave him a look, and Jongin was a little taken aback by how tired he looked. Not the tired of a man who hadn’t had a good night sleep for a long time, but the tiredness of a man who’s fought a battle for too long only to be tossed aside in a fit of cowardice by the people he had tried to save.

“They’re our entire research division,” Joonmyeon corrected, and Jongin couldn’t help but show it—he was shocked. Things had been so different four years ago…

Yifan was watching his reaction too. “Things have changed, Jongin,” he said. “We’re not an army anymore. We’re the resistance.”

Jongin wondered if he should be alarmed to hear that. He wasn’t.

They reached a set of double sliding doors. Kyungsoo stepped forward and punched in the code for the door, and Jongin felt a shiver of anticipation go down his spine.

The doors slid open.

“Welcome back,” Joonmyeon said.

 

*

 

The Jaeger hangar was perhaps the showpiece of the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Standing hundreds of feet high to accommodate the height of the Jaegers, it was circular and surrounded by seven spokes, six of which fed into a bay in which the Jaeger was housed. The seventh spoke led to Scramble Alley, the ramp that Jaegers had to take for pick-ups during deployment. Any other space was occupied by equipment—spare parts, hoses, coolants, and the maintenance crew of each Jaeger.  Directly across Scramble Alley was a mezzanine that jutted out over the ground floor, which housed the Hong Kong LOCCENT. Like all Shatterdomes, LOCCENT was its nerve centre, where data from all Jaegers and their pilots as well as daily operations were fed into and projected onto huge, holographic screens, along with data gathered by sensors near the breach. Directly below the mezzanine was the entrance to the hangar, and it was where Jongdae stood now, surveying the scene, unable to comprehend how was it that the Shatterdome even more chaotic than usual.

Then he remembered that staff and resources were due to arrive from three different Shatterdomes today, and on top of that, a Jaeger and her crew. Jongdae stared at the chaos for a good minute before groaning. He couldn’t believe Marshal Kim had left him in charge of _this_. He would much rather be flying off to visit and enlist the help of old Jaeger pilots, even if they had been washed up and out of action for years

There wasn’t much he could do here, anyway. Jongdae doesn’t know who the Marshal is kidding. Anyone who has ever worked in the Shatterdome has a very specific skill set. The rangers piloted the Jaegers. The Jumphawk pilots worked the helicopters. Ground crews did the maintenance. The hanger was in chaos because everyone was following orders. There wasn’t much overseeing that Jongdae could do, to be honest. He was more likely to get in the way than be of help.

Still, he meandered through the crowd, curious to catch a glimpse of the newcomers and perhaps the new Jaeger. It was a Mark V—the only Mark V that was rolled out before the UN got cold feet and ceased production for any Jaegers in that line. It was piloted by two of the best rangers the academy had to offer, Byun Baekhyun and Park Chanyeol. Jongdae hadn’t met them yet, but he had seen crew walking around in jumpsuits with the _Blue Phoenix_ emblem splashed across their backs, so he figured they had to be around somewhere.

He walked passed the Jaeger bay that contained a newly restored _Alpha Rogue_. Kyungsoo had outdone himself—the Jaeger no longer resembled the wreck it once had been after Jongin’s and Jongwoon’s 2020 drop in Anchorage. Jongdae wondered if the fervour with which Kyungsoo had thrown himself into the project had stemmed from a desire to pilot her himself. Kyungsoo and Joonmyeon had try to keep it a secret, but practically the whole of LOCCENT knew how badly he wanted to be a Ranger, and how stubbornly Joonmyeon didn’t want him to be. Jongdae had never seen two people more obstinate locked in a battle of wills and there was a running bet within the staff over who would get their way.

Jongdae had his money on Kyungsoo. Joonmyeon might be stubborn, true, but the Jaeger program didn’t really have the luxury of refusing any good pilot that came their way anymore.

The Jaeger in the next bay was _Lucky One_ , Jongdae’s personal favourite. Sure, Blue Phoenix was the fastest and deadliest of the lot, but Lucky One was a classic—she was a Mark III, and was bright red in colour. She had been designed and named by the Chinese, whom considered red a lucky colour. Some found the red blinding, a far cry from the softer shades of blue and green the other Jaegers had. Jongdae however, loved the red, loved the gold accents that had been incorporated into the design. Lucky One had barely been there a week, but he had been back there every day since just to see her.

He walked up to Lucky One. Her maintenance crew were doing some checks, but they ignored him, as they had ever since the first day when they realised he was simply there to look. He stood and drank in the sight of the Jaeger, an all too familiar pang in his chest as he did so. If he had his way, he would be the one to pilot Lucky One.

“Like what you see?”

Jongdae startled, the unfamiliar voice pulling him out of his thoughts. He whirled around and caught sight of one of the maintenance crew looking at him. Huh, he was quite sure he had never seen this guy before, but he had to be one of Lucky One’s, because he wore a dark red jumpsuit with a gold dragon and the words _Lucky One_ emblazoned on his back. The man, Jongdae realised, was also startlingly handsome. His eyes were warm and brown. Soft hair fell over his forehead, and like Jongdae, he had one of his ears pierced. He was a couple of inches taller than Jongdae and slimmer, and the way he held himself was graceful, and—Jesus, how could someone look that _good_ in a jumpsuit?

The tech was still waiting for his answer, and Jongdae realised that while he had been ogling, the silence had stretched a little too long. He gave a self-conscious laugh.

“Yeah, well,” he said, his tone passably casual as he waved at hand in Lucky One’s general direction. “She’s my favourite.” He tried to lessen the adoration in his voice, but failed. Some of the techs and engineers he was closer to often tease him about how in love he is with their Jaegers when he has never jockeyed before. Only the Rangers ever seem to get Jongdae’s affection, but then again that was probably because they have piloted before. He cursed himself for his idiocy, sure he was going to be laughed at. Luckily, the man only smiled in agreement. “Gorgeous, isn’t she?” he said instead. “She’s my favourite too.”

“Yes, well,” Jongdae said again in an entirely different tone, eyeing his jumpsuit pointedly. _She has to be your favourite_ hung unspoken in the air.

The man looked down, almost as if he had forgotten what he was wearing, and laughed sheepishly, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he did so.

“In my defence, she was my favourite even before I joined the crew,” he said, tone filled with mirth. He nodded at Jongdae. “I’m Lay.”

Jongdae noted that his Korean was slightly accented, and figured that the man must be Chinese, even if his name didn’t really _sound_ Chinese. He grinned back. “Jongdae.”

Lay cocked his head. “I’ve heard of you.”

Jongdae was surprised. “Really?” he blurted. He’s not usually recognised around the base. Kyungsoo? Sometimes. Minseok? Definitely. Him? Not so much.

Lay nodded. “You’re one of the best from the Ranger academy. Perfect simulation score, and apparently you know your way around a hanbō, too.”

Jongdae snorted, the excitement leaving him. “Then you’ll probably know that despite my perfect grades I’ve been grounded since I left the academy” he said. His tone is only slightly bitter, as he had gotten better at controlling just how upset he was at his predicament. He also reminded himself that it wasn’t Lay’s fault that he couldn’t pilot a Jaeger. _It’s nobody’s fault_ , just like Joonmyeon repeatedly liked to tell him. _Compatibility isn’t something that can be forced_.

Lay’s pursed his lips apologetically, and Jongdae’s eyes flicked down to look at his mouth against his will. The tech’s lips are red and very full. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

Jongdae sighed. “I know. Sorry, it’s. It’s a touchy subject.”

He expected Lay to drop the matter, but instead the tech tilted his head to the side, expression thoughtful. “You were grounded because of a lack of compatibility, weren’t you?”

There it was again, the pang of longing and resentment in his chest. Jongdae frowned slightly. “Well, yeah,” he said cautiously, not sure why Lay is choosing to pursue the matter, particularly when he had made it clear that he _doesn’t want to talk about it_.

“There’s rumours,” Lay continued, giving no sign that he had sensed Jongdae’s discomfort. “That the Marshal is recalling inactive Rangers into service.”

Jongdae shrugged. “They are not rumours,” he corrected tonelessly. Joonmyeon hadn’t made an official announcement, but it was only a matter of time before the whole Shatterdome found out anyway.

Lay frowned as he looked at Jongdae, his gaze sharp. “And it has never occurred to you that maybe one of them would be compatible with you?” he asked.

The word _no_  was already on his lips, but Lay’s piercing gaze caused him to falter. He stopped and swallowed, and he hated himself for this but the truth was that Lay was right, he has thought about that. It was a long shot—Jongdae’s optimism had diminished over the year as he was tested incompatible with every single Ranger the Shatterdome had to offer—but some of the hope still remained. Yet what were the chances? Joonmyeon and Yifan were only recalling two Rangers back, and Luhan’s co-pilot was pretty much guaranteed. That left Kim Jongin, one of the only two Rangers who had finished a run solo, and lived to tell the tale. Jongdae had seen his dossier, and he’s not hopeful about his chances. But still…

“I did,” he admitted. “But the odds aren’t really in my favour here, you know.”

Lay smiled at him gently. “You only need to be compatible with one person, Jongdae. It could be Jongin-ssi, for all you know.”

Jongdae tried desperately to quash the hope he feels, but it was futile. He wanted this, so, so badly, and he hated the swell of anticipation he felt at Lay’s words, because he knew he was just going to set himself up for disappointment again.  “Maybe,” he said instead, non-committedly. “He’ll be piloting Alpha Rogue, wouldn’t he?”

“Yup,” Lay said. “I mean, Lucky One’s more or less reserved.” He doesn’t say who she’s reserved for, but Jongdae already knew and he was _not_ jealous. Not at all.

Lay sighed and looked back at the Jaeger, expression reluctant. “Well, you’re welcome to stay and watch if you like, but I have to get back to work,” he said. “She needs to be ready by the time her Rangers get here. It’s like prepping the bride for her wedding, almost.”

Jongdae laughed, though the confused look on Lay’s face told him that the tech hadn’t meant it as a joke. “Alright, better get busy,” he said. “Marshal Kim left me in charge while he’s gone, so I better get back to supervising too.”

Lay laughed too. “See you around, Jongdae.”

Jongdae bid him goodbye and started forward towards the next Jaeger bay, but it was a lost cause. Even the fact that it belonged to Blue Phoenix could not distract him from thinking about what Lay had told him earlier.

 

*

 

Joonmyeon and Yifan wasted no time in giving Jongin and Luhan a tour of the Shatterdome. Jongin and Luhan followed as they started in an anti-clockwise direction. Luhan looked a little indifferent, but Jongin was taking in everything as if it was all new to him.

His eyes fell on a huge, old-fashioned flip clock above the doors to the hangar. It was huge, easily twenty feet across, with each panel the size of a movie poster. It wasn’t showing the local time, and Jongin was pretty sure none of the other Shatterdomes has something like this.

“It’s a war clock,” Joonmyeon said, seeing what Jongin was looking at. “We reset it after every kaiju attack, keeps everyone focused on the goal.”

Luhan looked curious too. The war clock must have been put up after he left. “How long until the next reset?” he asked.

“A week,” Yifan answered. “If we’re lucky.”

It was a short tour. Yifan introduced both Jongin and Luhan to Byun Baekhyun and Park Chanyeol. The two seem an unlikely pair. Everything about Baekhyun was small—he’s tiny, with smiley brown eyes and a curly brown hair. In contrast, Chanyeol was almost as tall as Yifan himself, and Yifan was the tallest person Jongin knew. He came off as a little intimidating at first until he smiled, and then his whole face literally lit up. To Luhan they’re a little friendlier, but it’s probably because they had worked together before. Jongin never had the chance, since the pair only graduated about a year after he left active service.

The two were probably the most well-known Ranger pair too. Probably because most of the other Rangers were dead, as Joonmyeon had said, but also because they were good at what they did. Jongin knew that if given a choice, the Marshal would have entrusted the fate of the world in the hands of Rangers like Baekhyun and Chanyeol, not washed up, former pilots like him.

But then again, Joonmyun no longer had that choice.

They separated after the meeting with Baekhyun and Chanyeol. Joonmyun whispered something into Yifan’s ear, who nodded and beckoned to Luhan to follow. Jongin made to leave with them, but Kyungsoo stopped him.

“You’ll be following me, Jongin-ssi,” he said. “There’s something I think you’ll like to see.”

Jongin looked down at him, noting that he was considerably taller than Kyungsoo. “Um. Okay?”

They bid Joonmyun farewell. Jongin followed, a little lost as Kyungsoo weaved through the throng of people. “Is it always this crowded?” he asked, having to raise his voice a little to be heard over the noise.

Kyungsoo shook his head. “Not usually,” he said. “But it’s been a busy day. Blue Phoenix just arrived, and we’ve got equipment from the other Shatterdomes coming in, too. So things are a little more hectic than usual.”

Jongin grunted in reply. He followed Kyungsoo through a security door that was labelled REPAIR BAY. He had an idea of what was to come, and his pulse quickened with anticipation.

The place was a mess—it was littered with repair benches, bins filled with parts and wires, maintenance crew tending to the engine relays, soldering, welding…but Jongin saw none of it. His attention was automatically on Alpha Rogue, standing in the centre of the chaos.

She looked amazing, he thought. It was the first time he had seen her since Anchorage. Back then, there had been a gaping hole through her head where the Conn-Pod had been, and her arm had been ripped off. The memories rush back, unbidden, and all Jongin can see is the snow melting away from the beach as he steered Alpha Rogue onto land, crawling out of the Conn-Pod, the blood blooming like a macabre flower against the white of his suit. The empty space in his mind where Jongwoon had once been.

Yet even as he looked at Alpha Rogue now, it was as if that had never happened.

“She looks like new,” Jongin said.

“Better than new,” Kyungsoo said softly. Jongin turned back to look at him, and he was surprised to see the expression on Kyungsoo’s face. He looked almost fond. “She’s one of a kind now.”

Jongin huffed, remembering that Kyungsoo had been in charge of the Mark III restoration project. “Thanks,” he said, a little gruffly. It was the best he could do, honestly.

Kyungsoo looked at him and gave him a small smile. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small tin, popping it open and handing Jongin a pill.

“Metharocin,” he explained when he saw Jongin’s questioning look. “It will shield you from the radiation while you’re out of your suit. Her exposed core is still fuel rod.”

Jongin swallowed the pill, and took the time to think about what he wanted to say next. He was still in the dark about Joonmyun’s grand plan, the reason he was even recalled back in the first place. The Marshal had told him he would be briefed the next morning, before candidate trials. Luhan had told him some things though. A bomb run. An offence. How they were going for the breach itself. It was a little weird, to be honest. It’s been a long time since humanity had the ability to master an offence.

In the end, Kyungsoo spoke first. “How did you remember her?” he asked, and it took Jongin a moment to realise he was referring to Alpha Rogue.

“Huh.” He thought hard, staring at Alpha Rogue. “Well…she was less shiny. And she had more holes.”

Kyungsoo’s lip twitched, and it looked as if he was trying not to laugh. “She’s got a solid iron hull now,” he said, voice filled with pride. “No alloys. Also forty engine blocks per muscle strand, hyper-torque drivers in every new limb and a new fluid synapse system.” He looked at Jongin, and Jongin could see in those huge eyes just how proud Kyungsoo is of his work. He wished he had paid more attention back when he was a trainee. What Kyungsoo had just said sounded impressive and technical and also completely beyond his ability to appreciate.

Kyungsoo wasn’t finished. “We took her out of the repair bay earlier today to run some diagnostics on her neural systems. She’s good to go, just some final touch ups and she’ll be ready for the test run with you and your…co-pilot.”

Jongin doesn’t miss the way Kyungsoo’s voice faltered when he mentioned his co-pilot. “When will I get to meet them?” he asked curiously.

Kyungsoo hesitated. “Well…I’ve handpicked five potential candidates for you. I’ve watched all of you victories, even Anchorage, and analysed your fighting styles and techniques. I hope you’ll like who I have chosen for you.”

Jongin nodded, but privately he was doubtful. Data and analysis had their uses, but they could hardly be considered accurate when accounting for the complexity and unpredictability of the human mind in Drift compatibility. “Thanks. I hope so, too. I can’t pilot this girl alone.”

Kyungsoo smiled slightly. “I’m sure you won’t.” He glanced at his watch. “Would you like me to show you to your room? You should get some rest, you have a long day tomorrow.”

Jongin nodded.

His room was ordinary, with space for a bed and not much else. Jongin dropped his bag on the bed, taking it in. In the doorway, Kyungsoo was speaking. “You’ll meet the other candidates at six hundred hours in the Kwoon. Standard Jaeger bushido. You are familiar with it, aren’t you?”

“Alright,” Jongin responded. “And yes, I am.”

“Great. I’ll be in the room opposite if you need me.”

Jongin looked up quickly, but he saw that Kyungsoo had already turned and left. He sighed, disappointed, though he wasn’t really sure why, either.

He dug into his bag and drew out a clean shirt, as well as the photograph of him and Jongwoon after their first kill, the only possession he had that he truly treasured. He placed the photograph next to his bed, and pulled his shirt off, thinking about taking a shower. It had been a long day, and he really smelled.

A startled gasp from the door caused him to look up.

It was Kyungsoo. He was clutching a tablet so hard in his hands that it looked as if it would break, and his eyes were huger than ever. Jongin frowned before the penny dropped.

He knew what Kyungsoo was seeing, was sure he knew why Kyungsoo looked so shocked. There were scars all over his back and chest, where the circuitry from his drivesuit had overloaded and burned its keloid into his skin in Anchorage, four years ago. He looked at Kyungsoo, gauging his reaction. The man was turning red, again.

“Um,” Jongin said. “Can I help you?” He couldn’t help but felt amused. His scars had never bothered him. He was lucky to have them as opposed to being dead. He did wonder why Kyungsoo seem so particularly flustered however. He figured it was because Kyungsoo had never seen scars like these before. Huh.

“I just…I came to…”Kyungsoo took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “I should go,” he said in a rush, before he practically turned and bolted back to his room. Jongin heard the sound of his door locking, and bit back a laugh, before he turned and shut the door to his own room as well.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent so long editing this that I just gave up and posted it because otherwise it probably would be stuck in my drafts till next week. Also, I wanted it out of the way before university became really crazy and so I could start on the other chapters lol. And updates might also be slow because of school. I really don't know why I chose to start on this after holidays ended, but oh well.


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